Valentine's Eve
by AoiGensou
Summary: Het Hermione ends up helping Harry on an essay late on the night before Valentine's day, but Harry seems to be too distracted to get much of anything done. Not HBP compliant. Oneshot.


Valentine's Eve  
By Lizzie

A/N-slash-disclaimer: This was a gift for alexajones22 on a Livejournal Valentines fic exchange. ZOMG I wrote het. Fancy that. And it's not HBP-compliant. Anyway, I make no claims as to the mine-ness of the characters or the setting. It belongs to JK Rowling et al, yadda yadda yadda.

Oh, and it's unbeta-ed, too.

It was a quiet night in the Gryffindor common room. The hour was late, the fire was dying down, and there were only two people left awake. Everyone else had gone up to their dorms to sleep, like sane people, but Harry and Hermione were poring over a potions text together.

"I don't see why you waited until the last minute to finish your homework _again_, Harry," Hermione scolded with a yawn. "Even Ron has finished his already, and he's a worse procrastinator than you!"

"You could always go to bed. You don't have to help me," Harry replied with a yawn of his own. Hermione tsked.

"If I didn't help you, you'd never get to bed."

"How is that any different than now?"

In response, Hermione smacked Harry's arm. Harry grinned back at her, and the two of them fell into silence once more. Hermione was reading over an essay Harry was writing, marking an occasional wording suggestion, and fact checking his work. Once in a while she'd scold him for his awful handwriting, but he would just shrug. It went on like that for a while, until Harry got distracted.

Except for at the Yule Ball in their fourth year, Harry wouldn't have called Hermione pretty. She was one of his best friends, and he sometimes had a hard time thinking of her as a girl at all. But there in the firelight, her wild bushy hair tamed just enough for her to sleep on, the dancing light from the flames turning her skin an ever-changing shade of golden bronze, and Harry found that he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

It took him a few seconds to realize that Hermione had been trying to ask him a question, and finally snapping out of his trace, he tried to look attentive, but she was already giving him a weird look.

"Huh? I'm sorry Hermione, could you repeat that?" he asked, running a hand sheepishly through his messy hair.

"I was asking if you wanted me to help you draw those diagrams you need. What's the matter? You looked a million miles away, and you were staring at me. Do I have something on my face?" Hermione's brow furrowed and she visibly had to refrain from bringing a hand up to inspect her face for blemishes.

"No, sorry. Nothing wrong, guess I just spaced there," Harry said apologetically. "I must be tired. What do you say we call it a night?"

Hermione stared at him as if he had spontaneously grown another head. "Harry, this is due in the morning. You need to finish it now."

Harry smiled weakly. "Oh yeah…" Internally, he was groaning. It wasn't one of his brighter moments, but he had to get out of there, and soon. He had, over the last few minutes, developed the inexplicable urge to kiss Hermione. Right on her lips. They were right there, urging him to do it. Soft, and red, and almost too thin, but Harry thought that it would feel rather nice anyhow.

"Harry! Focus!" Hermione's voice cut through his thoughts, sounding annoyed. Harry shook his head slightly, as though to clear it. It didn't help much.

"Sorry Hermione," he said again. Hermione shot him an exasperated look, and Harry made a visible effort to focus. Without even attempting to explain where his mind had gone – it would have been too embarrassing and awkward – he handed a partially completed diagram over to Hermione to look over. She took it, and engrossed herself in making corrections and adding things to it. That left Harry free to get lost in his daydreams once again.

Hermione was wearing her pajamas. They were lavender, with darker blue buttons on the shirt. There was a tiny satin bow the same color as the fabric at the collar. Harry thought that the color looked nice against her skin, and brought out how brown her eyes were. And upon thinking that thought, Harry paused to contemplate the fact that he hadn't even noticed that Hermione had brown eyes until just then.

"Okay Potter, you're starting to scare me," Hermione said after looking up and finding Harry staring at her again.

Harry blinked. "What?"

"For the last half hour, you haven't done anything but stare at me. Frankly, it's a bit disconcerting."

"I'm sorry Hermione," Harry said for the third time that night. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Don't tell me you're sorry, just tell me what's going on," she demanded gently. Harry gave her a pained look.

"It's nothing, really."

"Don't give me that. If it were nothing, you wouldn't be staring at me like you have been. And you definitely wouldn't look as though you had a stomach ache." Hermione set aside the parchment with the diagram on it, and gave Harry her full attention. Harry knew that it was futile to get out of this, Hermione was better at extracting information from him than anyone else. And he knew that she wouldn't stop until she was satisfied that she knew all there was to know.

"You see, it's like this," he began, not knowing how to broach the subject, "err, I haven't been able to concentrate much tonight." Hermione scoffed, as though to say 'Duh!' Harry felt his face grow warm. He couldn't believe that he was about to say any of what he had been thinking. "And it's because of you. Err, I haven't been able to think about much except howmuchI'dliketokissyou." He turned his face away from Hermione, positive that it was emitting as much light as the fire was.

Hermione was quiet for a long while. If Harry had mustered the courage to look back at her, he would have seen her stunned and speechless, a blush of her own coloring her cheeks. When she could find her voice again, she could only manage one word. "What?"

Harry almost wanted to laugh. Hermione was the smartest girl in the whole school, except when it came to something like this. Of course, he was no genius about this either. And he couldn't bear to say anything more and embarrass himself, so he figured he'd show her, and let her slap his face. It was easier. Gathering as much of his famed Gryffindor courage as he could, he turned back to her and leaned forward, catching her unawares, and planting a soft kiss on her lips. As an afterthought, he placed a hand on her shoulder, resting it there.

He felt Hermione tense up, and had actually expected that. Any moment, she'd hit him, and run up to her dorm, and he'd have to think of an explanation to give her the next day. Temporary insanity came to mind. And then Harry noticed that Hermione hadn't moved for the last several seconds. Not to push him away, and had in fact relaxed somewhat. Though he figured that it had to be shock, and nothing more. She was bound to come to her senses soon.

Harry pulled away from Hermione regretfully, and chanced a look at her to gauge her reaction to what had just happened. He figured that he'd earn points by stopping on his own rather than waiting for her to put the brakes on. He _had_ been enjoying himself, though, and wished that he could have more time to explore her lips, which had turned out to be just as soft as he had imagined. His breathing was surprisingly steady, considering what he had just done, and he met Hermione's eyes, prepared to face the consequences.

What he found surprised him. She was blushing, but she didn't look angry. In fact, Hermione actually looked happy. She was searching his face, trying to figure out if Harry was playing with her. "Harry…" she said after a time, her voice softer than Harry could ever remember it being. "How long have you… felt like this?" She made a vague gesture with one of her hands, and Harry shrugged.

"An hour, a year, I don't know. I'm not exactly the most perceptive about feelings," Harry said dismissively, trying to dispel the almost expectant tension that had fallen over them. Hermione's lips quirked in a half smile, and Harry wanted to kiss them again, but was distracted from that thought when Hermione started giggling.

"Oh Harry," she said, "I can't believe this. I've wanted to do that forever."

"You have?" he asked dumbly. She nodded, blushing even brighter, but she still had a smile on her face.

"Yes, I have."

"Well then why did we stop?" Harry asked, a smile of his own spreading on his face.

"I don't know! I was just starting to like it!"

Hearing Hermione's answer emboldened Harry, and he leaned forward and kissed her again. This time there was no hesitation, and no tenseness in either of them. Hermione gave as well as she got. It started chaste, and that was fine for the both of them, for a time. Harry noticed all sorts of things that he hadn't realized before. Like how Hermione's hair smelled like something flowery, and how she had a faint dusting of freckles on her forehead that normally weren't visible. Hermione's eyes were closed, and Harry eventually let his own fall shut, forgetting about thinking and just feeling.

Hermione was the one who made the first move to turn things heavier. All of a sudden, something warm and wet was poking at Harry's lips, and he realized that that was her tongue. Now, he wasn't one to be outdone by anyone, so he opened his mouth a fraction, and let his own tongue slip out to touch hers tentatively. It was wet, and unfamiliar, and very addicting from the first.

When they broke apart after several minutes, their breathing was heavier, and it had nothing to do with a lack of oxygen. Harry swallowed nervously, and Hermione giggled softly. They both wanted to keep going, but neither of them knew how to actually say it. Harry began absently kneading Hermione's shoulder, and she put a hand on Harry's thigh. After a few awkward moments, Harry finally spoke.

"Hermione, can I…?" He let his question hang in the air, hoping that Hermione would understand what he was saying without him actually having to say it. His hand at her shoulder stilled, and he looked down in embarrassment.

Harry felt his hand being squeezed by Hermione's, who gently pried it away from her shoulder and placed it on her breast. He looked back up at her face, and she was smiling encouragingly at him. "Yeah, okay," she said, and Harry gave a small laugh. Never in a million years had he imagined that he would be doing this with Hermione outside of his fantasies, and it was almost surreal. He gave an experimental squeeze of her breast, and she answered with a squeeze of her own on his thigh.

They went back to kissing again, Harry with his hand full of Hermione's breast, and she with her hand moving steadily up Harry's thigh, toward an unsurprising bulge in his pajama pants. When she finally put her hand over his hardness, he tore his mouth away from hers and took a deep breath, trying not to make any noise so that he wouldn't wake up their classmates. In a fit of boldness, he slipped his hand under her pajama shirt and cupped her breast through her bra, which he was titillated to find was lacy and feminine. It wasn't something he'd imagined her wearing, but he wasn't complaining.

Her nipple hardened to a peak beneath his caressing thumb, and she showed her appreciation by pressing the heel of her hand firmly against his hardness, earning another gasp from him, which he stifled by burying his head in the side of her neck, and kissing her there. He took the hand not filled with breast, and began working at the buttons of her pajamas, intending on seeing what he was touching. He was clumsy, but in short order, the shirt fell open, and Harry was treated to the sight of her breasts covered only by a thin barrier of lace and satin.

Harry's eyes drank their fill, and when he had had enough, he brought his head down to brush his lips against her collarbone, and then further down to mouth at her nipples through her bra. She gave Harry a surprised gasp, and shoved her hand without finesse down the front of his pajama pants to grasp at his hardness. Harry couldn't help the low cry that escaped from his mouth, nobody but himself had ever touched him there, and it was a little overwhelming.

Once he regained his mind, Harry reached into one of the cups of Hermione's bra, and drew the breast it contained out, so that he could put his lips around her nipple and flick his tongue against it. It hardened even further into a nub that he could roll between his lips, and doing so gained him the knowledge of the sorts of pleasured noises that could come from that action. He was pleased that she was enjoying herself, and even more pleased that she showed her enjoyment by stroking her hand along his shaft. It wasn't as firm as he would have liked, but it would do.

The hand that Harry had used to unbutton Hermione's shirt found it's way gradually down to her own pajama trousers, and slipped inside, where he discovered that she had a matching set of underwear, and that her panties were starting to dampen with signs of her pleasure. He probed a single finger into the folds of her womanhood, and caressed the wetness within, drawing a strangled gasp from Hermione.

Both of them were breathing heavily, and Harry was on the verge of pulling himself away from her and stripping them both down, when he heard someone clear their throat at the top of the stairs leading to the boys dormitories. Looking up to see who it was, he saw Dean trying not to look embarrassed, but grinning all the same. Harry and Hermione jumped apart, and tried to make themselves decent.

"Good study session, then?" Dean asked, laughter coloring his voice. Neither Harry nor Hermione could think of an answer to that question that wouldn't leave them open for ribbing, so they refrained. Instead, Harry grinned, using his hands to cover the embarrassing condition of his crotch.

"Err, I was just coming up to bed."

"Sure you were," Dean replied, and turned around to disappear back into the dormitories. Harry stared in shock after him, and then turned to Hermione, who was holding back laughter. The mood was completely ruined, and neither of them was in any frame of mind to continue with schoolwork, so they both cleaned up Harry's homework in silence. Once that task was finished, they faced each other, both needing to get to bed, but reluctant to leave.

"Tomorrow is Valentine's Day," Hermione said at last.

"Yeah, I know," Harry answered.

"And classes are getting out early."

"Mmhmm."

"Do you want to perhaps do something? Together?"

"That would be nice."

"Okay, see you in the morning Harry."

"Yeah, g'night Hermione."

They parted and walked to their respective staircases. Harry began climbing the steps, but stopped when Hermione called his name again softly.

"Harry."

"Hm?"

"Bring your tie tomorrow." She grinned in a very wicked and un-Hermione-like way, and Harry blushed. He didn't think he knew what she had in mind, but he was definitely eager to find out.


End file.
